I’m a Candyman and I’m OK
by IDOL HANDS
Summary: I’ve been curious to address this strange, yet plausible aspect of the film tackling subjects I find interesting in general. Prose dedicated to Burton’s reference of Ed Wood in the film.  Reference to Monty Python’s “I’m a Lumberjack” song.  GENDERBENDER!


**Title:** I'm a Candyman and I'm OK

**By:** IDOL HANDS

**Characters or Pairings:** Wonka/surprise

**Rating:** PG

**Disclaimer:** The characters portrayed are not my property but of R. Dahl, Tim Burton and Johnny Depp. In fact, I think they own me.

**Warning:** transvestitism

**Summary:** I've been curious to address this strange, yet plausible aspect of the film; tackling subjects I find interesting in general. Prose dedicated to Burton's reference of Ed Wood in the film.

**A/N:** Title is a reference to Monty Python's "I'm a Lumberjack" song.

**Carefully**,

Neatly in one fluid motion: slip, push, and a tuck -

Smoothness achieved.

Essential,

For women,

As everyone knows,

Are smooth.

**Form**,

Compact, elegant, sculpted, slim, and firm -

True for the entirety of his being,

Permitting such fluxuating indulgences.

**Manhood**,

Can prove distracting,

Reactions without permission,

Life could be simpler without it.

Thick latex gloves are stretched off,

Sullied by the task.

Candy apple red fingernails,

Whomever would suppose,

Hidden underneath?

**Laughter**.

Secrets were fun,

But they could also be messy,

Emotional roads to turmoil,

Broken trusts of person's most dear,

Unthinkable and unbearable,

Sometimes better shown

Than found out and misunderstood.

**Anyway**,

On to the stockings,

Thin as spun sugar,

Glazing long legs.

**Threshold**,

Always pushing boundaries

Father and father

Into everyday life,

Drawn to images, concepts, ideas,

No matter how taboo.

Whose rules were they anywho?

**Cover**,

Applied removing beard's shadow.

It's all about shadow & light,

Make them see

What isn't really there,

Make them believe

What never really was.

Lids set to deep shimmer,

Lashes lengthened,

Lipstick slid slowly over lips.

Features traced & filled,

Painting a mask over a mask.

**Tedious**,

Comforting, trance of ritual,

Allows the mind to wander,

In wonderment of the opposite sex,

Different and new powers to posses,

Creating desire, drawing lust.

Yin encircling yang, an endless dance,

Understood through these methods

No more unusual than

Complex processing of unique confections.

**Wonka**,

Embodied the line.

One thin stroke nearly invisible but

A thing feared if crossed.

For once so done,

Things were never the same again.

Therefore, cross-_dressing_,

A natural expression of this

Ever-changing nature;

Paisley pinwheel upon the wind.

**Corset**:

Constriction and control,

Worn even under masculine clothes,

Perfection through discomfort,

Akin to metal braces wired on teeth.

High-heeled shoes in a similar vein,

Stretching tendons of calves, lengthening thighs,

Derriere propped,

Sexually prone.

Everywhere curves overlapping angles,

Androgynous fantasy come true.

**Liquorice**,

Black dress with flared plunges,

Sharp as the suit replaced.

Choker necklace flaunts flickering "W",

Hiding Adam's shame.

**Pink**,

Hue of femininity's vulnerability,

Matching the bolero jacket.

Sleek muscles in arms

Cloaked in sleeves,

Bottom crops slimmer the waist,

Fluffy fabric suggesting a full bosom,

Triangle reversed.

Soft as clouds, floating, drifting away…

Transformation complete.

**Vixen**,

Voluptuous, swaying into the parlor,

Shocking the guest,

Secret confessed,

Jaw dropped to the floor,

More woman than she – though not really so,

Femme fatale stands in full mirror to see,

Reaches to the glass,

Reflection reaches back,

And his voice desperately calls, "Mother."

**Echoes**,

Her own name, but not to he.

Bizarre explaining the bizarre,

Forgiveness, compassion, and understanding,

Virtues of her gender.

Reaching to the victim in embrace true,

Accepting the unacceptable,

"You may teach my son still."

**Heart**,

Fluttering at confusing beauty,

Mind a whirl,

Stomach a grumble,

Mrs. Bucket breathed in,

Warm sugar and cotton-candy scents,

Chins upon shoulders, comfort quenched,

Another extravagant invitation is offered,

"This entire outfit, you know..."

"Is _eatible_."


End file.
